Slytherin
by fireonfire
Summary: Harry Potter is sorted into Slytherin. First story of a series with eventual Draco/Harry, though this story also has a lot of Cedric/Harry. Set during Goblet of Fire.
1. Prologue

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**Slytherin**

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_**Warnings: Eventual Slash, Language, Spoilers for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.**_

____**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

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**Prologue**

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Sometimes Harry Potter was forced to look back over his life, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

It would be just his luck if he was still little ten-year-old Harry, locked away in the cupboard with no end to his suffering and misfortune. Perhaps he had never received his letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it was all a dream.

But the events of his life were almost too strange to be imagined or created by a delusional mind.

It was three years ago that the giant Hagrid had found Harry in the most unlikely of places, far from his usual home, and had taken him away from his aunt and uncle and their behemoth son. That day was like being born again to Harry. His life finally made sense, finally had a meaning.

He'd started his first year at Hogwarts on that September 1st, three years ago, and had been sorted into Slytherin House, the House of his parents' murderer, Voldemort. Also the House of Blaise Zabini, Harry's first Slytherin friend; and of Draco Malfoy, the boy who against all odds had become one of Harry's best mates.

He'd also befriended Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, both Gryffindors. Though Ron and Draco would never be made to see eye-to-eye, Blaise had gotten somewhat close to Ron and Hermione. At least, they could tolerate each other.

Still, sometimes Harry wished that Draco, Ron and Hermione could get on. It was Draco that Harry felt most responsible for. Draco was the first wizarding person of his age, after all, even if the encounter hadn't really gone over that well.

But when Harry looked back over his life in the wizarding world, all of the interesting parts (that didn't involve Voldemort) included Draco in one way or another.

For instance, in Harry and Draco's first year, it had been Draco who paced Snape's office after their first flying lesson, insisting that Harry was made Seeker on Slytherin's Quidditch team, when he'd wanted the position himself.

It had been Draco who'd woken Harry and Blaise late one night and forced them to go exploring the castle, causing them to stumble upon Fluffy the enormous three-headed dog that had nearly ripped them to pieces.

And it was Draco who had believed Harry when Harry was convinced that Snape, Draco's own godfather, was working for Voldemort and trying to kill him. Draco who had demanded on a blood pact between Blaise, Harry and himself to keep Harry safe.

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Second year, Draco had come back to Hogwarts much quieter than he had been. He was much taller than he had been just a few months before. His hair was lighter, his eyes were grayer, and his complexion paler. He'd confessed to Harry that his mother had used charms on him to make him look more ''like a Malfoy." He'd spent days obsessing over the changes to his appearance because he thought he looked too much like his father.

Second year was when Draco's father had bought Slytherin team Nimbus 2001's, ensuring Draco the position of Chaser. Draco had felt that Harry would hate him for buying his way onto the team and tried to quit before Harry pointed out that Draco was actually a very good player.

Second year was Harry and Draco's first real fight, because Harry knew that Lucius Malfoy had given Ginny Weasley Tom Riddle's diary, and Draco wouldn't believe him. Then Harry had freed one of the Malfoy's house elves, and Harry was sure that his friendship with Draco was over. But Draco refused to stop being friends. He said he wouldn't permit it. And Draco usually got what he wanted.

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In third year, Draco was distant for a good portion of term. Harry was too busy obsessing over Sirius Black to notice. Blaise had to point out to him that something was wrong, but even then Harry didn't believe it.

Harry had realized Blaise was right when he overheard him and Draco one night after Christmas holidays. He would never forget it, because Draco was crying, and Draco had never cried before, not that Harry knew of. He was panicked, telling Blaise that he was doomed, because Malfoy's just weren't gay but Draco was and his father was going to positively murder him if he found out. And Harry found that he couldn't breathe, because he had never expected any of this to happen. But he still went into the bathroom where Draco and Blaise were talking and he made Draco see that no, Harry didn't hate him, and he never would.

Then Harry, being Gryffindorishly inept as he was, had told Seamus about Draco's romantic preferences, because Seamus was also gay, so he would understand, right? But Seamus hated Draco and had told Ron, who loathed Draco and came to Harry, thrilled at the idea of outing Draco to the entire school. Harry had never been so angry. He had held his best friend at wand-point that day, and made him swear not to tell a soul, except Hermione, who already knew anyway. And that was that.

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And that was how Harry had reached his fourth year at Hogwarts.

He had had a...different summer after the end of third year. He highly doubted that it could be called good, or even better than his previous few stays at the Dursley's. Ever since he had told his uncle about his godfather, Sirius Black the mass murderer, the Dursleys had tried very hard not to upset Harry. In other words, they ignored Harry entirely. This could be seen as an improvement from their previous hostility, but it didn't really make Harry feel any better.

Then, he got two letters from, one from the Weasleys and one from Draco, both asking him to the Quidditch World Cup. Draco's letter had come first, though, and so Harry had gone with the Malfoy's.

It had been entertaining to see Lucius Malfoy-no matter how much Harry hated him-standing in the Dursley's living room wearing intricate robes with a house elf at his heel. Uncle Vernon had been torn between his hatred of magic and his instinct to kiss up to rich, influential people and the result had been a lot of stuttering and flinching, which amused Harry to no end.

The stay at Malfoy Manor hadn't been much more comfortable than the Dursley's, though. It was the exact opposite of staying with the Weasley's-Mr. Malfoy spent almost the entire summer at his job at the Ministry of Magic and Mrs. Malfoy was the exact opposite of Mrs. Weasley. She was distant and remained locked in her rooms for most of Harry's stay. And Draco didn't seem to act like his usual self at all-he became stiff and took on a monotone voice with large amounts of sneering.

But it had been worth it to go to the Quidditch game. All the people, the leprechauns, the veela-Harry especially liked the veela, which annoyed Draco quite a bit.

After the attack on the campsite, Lucius Malfoy had approached the Weasley's and spoke civilly with Arthur long enough to trade-off Harry, saying Harry'd be more comfortable at the Burrow. Harry did agree, but couldn't shake off the guilt at leaving Draco there all by himself.

But the rest of the summer had been good fun. Playing Quidditch with Ron and the twins and having meals with the Weasley family who ate together and talked and laughed. It had been some of the best few weeks Harry had ever had.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter One

**Slytherin**

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_**Warnings: Eventual Slash, Language, Spoilers**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**_

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**The Triwizard Tournamen****t**

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At the opening feast on the first night back, Harry sat between Draco and Blaise listening to the Sorting Hat as it droned on. Finally, Dumbledore stood.

"I have only two words to say to you," he announced. "Tuck in."

"About time," Blaise muttered, shoveling food onto his plate. Harry did the same while Draco stared moodily into the roast beef.

"How was your summer?" Blaise asked Harry halfway through the meal.

Harry glanced at Draco, who looked up in interest. "It was alright. The Quidditch Cup was great." He held his breath, because if Draco somehow found his answer insulting, Harry would be faced with an argument or several weeks of the cold shoulder. Luckily, Draco seemed satisfied and went back to staring into space.

Honestly, Harry felt a bit sorry for Draco after seeing how he lived. After his summer at the Dursley's, he knew how it felt to be completely ignored.

At the end of the meal, Dumbledore again stood to give the usual start-of-term speech. Then, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Harry shared a horrified look with Draco, one of the teams Chasers.

"This is due to an event that will begin in October and last the entire year. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

He was interrupted by a deafening clap of thunder from outside as the doors to the Great Hall banged open.

In the doorway stood a man leaning on a long staff. The figure lowered the hood of his cloak as lightning illuminated the hall, revealing long, grizzled gray hair and a heavily scarred face. A large, startlingly blue eye rolled in one socket, observing the students. The entire student population stared at the newcomer as he spoke to Dumbledore and took a seat at the High Table.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said, seeming to ignore the stunned silence. "Professor Moody."

Everybody continued to stare in silence.

"That's a creepy-looking bloke," said Blaise.

Draco came suddenly to life and sneered. "My father's told me about him," he said disdainfully. "He's supposed to be a raving lunatic. Why would Dumbledore let him _teach_?"

Harry shrugged as Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak. "As I was saying, it is my great pleasure to tell you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

Murmuring broke out amongst the House tables. "You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley exclaimed loudly, causing the whole hall to dissolve into laughter.

Dumbledore smiled fondly. As he went on to explain the Tournament, something occurred to Harry. He leaned in and whispered to Draco, "You already knew about this didn't you? That's what you were talking about on the train."

"Of course," Draco replied in the superior voice that seemed to be his patented tone for making Harry feel like an idiot. "I knew ages ago."

"And you didn't say anything?" Harry demanded.

Draco sneered. "Well, I knew you wouldn't know what I was talking about, and I had better things to do than explain it to you. Besides," he added quietly, "I thought you'd like the surprise."

A little while later, Draco, Blaise and Harry were in the Slytherin boy's dormitory, preparing for bed. As was tradition on the first night back, Draco headed straight for the bathroom to scrutinize every change his mother had made to his face that year, and as per tradition, Harry followed him.

He stood by the door changing into pajamas while Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"So what is it this year?" Harry asked. Harry knew the odd little spells Mrs. Malfoy put on Draco to make him more attractive made Draco extremely anxious, and he couldn't really understand the logic behind using them in the first place.

"The usual," Draco muttered absently, rearranging his hair. "Eyes, hair, teeth."

"What did she do to your teeth?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Whitened them. But that's not so bad. Look at my _hair_. She keeps making it lighter. It's practically _gray_. I look like an old man."

"Do not," Harry replied. And he didn't, his hair was more platinum blonde than anything. "And if you hate it so much why don't you undo it?"

"I don't know how," Draco replied bitterly.

"Madame Pomfrey-"

"No. I don't want anyone to know," Draco replied.

"These charms aren't illegal are they?" Blaise asked, coming into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Draco scowled. "No. But it still wouldn't make my family look very good. These charms haven't been widely used in a century or so. Now only purebloods bother with them."

"I'm a pureblood," Blaise said. "My mother doesn't use them on me."

"Yes well," Draco said. "Your family isn't exactly in the same standing as mine, is it?"

Blaise grimaced. "Fuck you, my friend."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Draco smirked.

"Not as much as you would," Blaise retorted.

Harry sighed. "Can we go to bed now? I'm tired."

"Go ahead, Potter. I shouldn't have to hold your hand everywhere we go," Draco grumbled.

"You look fine," Harry grumbled back. "Aren't you supposed to be the most attractive guy at Hogwarts or something?"

"Except Diggory," Blaise added. "Girls love him."

Draco scoffed. "Cedric Diggory. He's the biggest pouf I've ever seen."

Harry spluttered. "Cedric?" he said, remembering the boy from last year's Quidditch game. "No way. Girls fall all over him."

"And yet he's single," Draco said. "Trust me, I know these things."

"Gay things?" Blaise asked. "I believe you. I'm off to bed. 'Night."

Harry watched Blaise leave longingly and looked back at Draco, who was still playing with his hair. "Well, it you're going to stay in here acting like a bloody girl all night, I'm going to bed," he said, leaving.

Crabbe and Goyle were already snoring loudly when Harry entered the dormitory. He crawled into bed and set his glasses on his nightstand before closing the curtains. He fell asleep instantly.

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	3. Chapter Two

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**Slytherin**

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_Warnings: See Previous Chapters_

_Disclaimer: I don't own HP_

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Mad-Eye Moody

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Harry scanned over his class schedule at breakfast the next morning. "Transfiguration first with the Ravenclaws," he said, mostly to himself. "Then Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor...Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned in misery.

"Why don't you give it up?" Blaise asked. "Arithmancy would be more useful."

"Well, it's an easy enough class," Harry said. "I just predict my own violent death every day."

Just then the owls flew into the Hall. Draco's usual supply of sweets from home came and Blaise received a letter from his mother. Harry's stomach sank in disappointment to see that Hedwig hadn't arrived with a reply from Sirius.

After Transfiguration the Slytherins trudged across the grounds to Hagrid's hut.

"...Yeh'll be able to raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!" Hagrid was saying when Harry and the Slytherins arrived. He appeared to be talking about a crate full of naked, slimy lobsters that shot off sparks every few moments.

"And why would we want to raise them?" Draco asked skeptically.

At Hagrid's blank look, he continued, "I mean what do they do? What is the point of them?"

"Tha's next lesson, Malfoy," Hagrid said darkly.

Then the class was divided into groups. Harry looked over to the Gryffindors to see Ron waving him over eagerly. Harry joined their group. He hadn't seen them, after all, since they were on the Hogwarts Express.

"At least the skrewts are small," Ron said later as he walked with Harry and Hermione to the castle for lunch.

"They are now," Hermione said anxiously. "But they'll get bigger. They can grow up to six feet long."

Harry had the sudden urge to go back to Hagrid's and dump all the skrewts in the lake.

He sat at the Gryffindor table for lunch. As soon as the three of them sat down, Hermione began to shovel down food with such speed that even Ron paused to stare.

"Is this your new stand on elf rights?" he asked. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"I have to get to the library," Hermione explained.

"Er, elf rights?" Harry asked once Hermione was gone. He was obviously missing something.

"Yeah," Ron replied. "House-elf rights. She's on a rampage."

The bell rang several minutes later, signalling the end of lunch, and Ron and Harry climbed the North Tower to Professor Trelawney's Divination class. Around the cluttered tower room, students were settled into squashy chairs. Harry sat at a table across from Ron and listened as Trelawney went into a lecture about the stars.

They left Divination with several hours' worth of homework and found Hermione as she left Arithmancy. Harry saw Draco exit after her, looking pissy. Harry didn't really feel like dealing with him in that state. He thought about walking off without him, just for a few extra moments of peace.

Draco suddenly looked up and saw Harry with Ron, then apparently realized that Harry was about to choose Ron over himself. A nasty sort of expression worked its way onto his face.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" Draco called after them.

"What?" Ron demanded hostilely, turning to face him.

"Just wondering if you saw this morning's paper, Weasel. Your dad was in it, you know. It said something about him being a disgrace. Of course, that's already common knowledge..."

"Draco, stop it," Harry said. Ron was balling his hands into angry fists.

"Oh, and there was a nice little picture of that shack your family lives in."

Ron's face was turning red with fury. "Shut your mouth, you bloody faggot," he said.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed scoldingly.

Draco went eerily still for a moment. "Or maybe I should call it a barn, considering your cow of a mother lives there."

Harry had to restrain Ron as he tried to get at Draco. Even though Harry had half a mind to beat Draco into the ground himself. "And what about your mother?" Harry said. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that or is it just because you were with her?"

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter," Draco spat.

"Keep your big mouth shut, then," Harry replied, turning away.

BANG!

Harry felt something white-hot graze by his face, and spun around, reaching for his wand.

Another BANG! and Mad-Eye Moody was there, bellowing, "OH NO YOU DON"T LADDIE!"

Where Draco had been, there was now a white ferret.

Moody turned to Harry. "Did he get you?"

"No," Harry said, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted. For it seemed that Moody could see out the back of his head, and Crabbe had been trying to make off with the Malfoy-ferret.

The ferret attempted to streak off to the dungeon, squeaking in terror, but Moody pointed his wand, yelling, "I don't think so!" And the ferret was then thrown into the air, landing hard on the floor and bouncing up again.

Harry watched, torn between anger and entertainment. Because Draco deserved what was coming to him, but each smack against the hard stone floor made Harry flinch, and what if Draco got hurt?

It was Professor McGonagall that intervened. "Professor Moody!" she said in shock.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said, completely calm as he bounced Draco through the air.

"What-what are you doing?" she asked, watching the ferret as it soared through the air.

"Teaching," Moody replied.

"Moody, is that a student?" she shrieked.

"Yep," he said.

"No!" she cried, pulling out her wand. Seconds later Draco appeared, blonde hair in disarray. He winced as he stood.

Harry heard McGonagall chastising Moody in the background, but he was too busy restraining himself from going to see it Draco was okay to catch any of it. Draco's eyes met his, eyes that were watering from either pain or humiliation, or maybe both. But Draco looked away quickly and didn't look back. Moody finally grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away, to talk to the Head of Slytherin House, Snape.

Harry went to see Ron, who was now at the Gryffindor table, sitting with his head in his hands.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said. "I want to fix that in my memory forever. Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry couldn't help but laugh along with Ron and Hermione. Finally, he stood up. "I better go check on him," he said.

"Harry, why?" Ron asked, whining slightly. "He's a git."

Harry shrugged. After all, Draco was a git. But for some reason, Harry found that appealing.

Harry had to wait outside of Snape's office for a few minutes before Draco appeared, his hair back in place and all traces of vulnerability gone.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked defensively.

And suddenly, Harry's rage towards Draco was back, because not only did Draco know how to get under Harry's skin, but he used this knowledge at the most inopportune times.

"What the hell is your problem, Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

"You are," Draco replied. "What do you want?"

Harry growled angrily and grabbed Malfoy's sleeve, hauling him against the wall and pinning him there. "What you said to Ron was foul and stupid, and I want to know what your problem is."

Malfoy sneered down at him. "Are you trying to intimidate me, Potter? It might work if you grew a few feet."

"Listen, if you have a problem with me, you can leave Ron out of it," Harry said in a low, intense voice.

Draco glared. "If you're so fucking in love with Weasley, what are you doing here with me?" he snarled.

Harry blinked in confusion and took a step back. "I came to see if you were okay," he snarled back, just as venomously.

"What's it to you?" Draco snapped.

Harry glared furiously. "Could be that you're my best friend," he growled. "Not that I see that lasting for very long," he added.

"Weasley's your best friend," Draco said bitterly.

"I didn't realize there was a limit on the number of best friends I could have," Harry said stonily.

"Shut up, Potter, you know what I mean," Draco hissed, lowering his voice and glancing nervously around the corridor. "He'll always be closer to you. He'll be your best friend because all I'll ever be is your gay friend."

Harry took another step back nervously. "Draco...It doesn't matter to me. It's never mattered to me."

But Draco shook his head. "It always matters. Always."

Harry sighed in frustration. "Fine. But if I'm so much closer to Ron, why did I come down here after you?"

Draco stared at Harry for too long, until Harry had to take another step away. "C'mon. We still have time to get some lunch if we hurry, Ferret boy."

Draco glared, and swiped at Harry, only missing him by a few inches. Then Harry ran, and Draco chased after him.

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**Thanks for Reading!**


	4. Chapter Three

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**Slytherin**

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_Warnings: See Previous Chapters_

_Disclaimer: I don't own HP_

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Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

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All of Hogwarts was buzzing about Professor Moody, the super cool new DADA teacher. But when Harry finally had class with him on Tuesday, he began to find Moody unsettling. For the entire day after Moody's demonstration of the Unforgivables, all Harry could think of was that blinding flash of green light and a life, gone.

But the week went by fairly quietly otherwise, until Thursday night, when Harry finally got a reply from Sirius. It said exactly what Harry feared-Sirius was coming north again. Harry sent a hasty reply trying to assure him everything was fine, but he still spent the next few days worried for his godfather.

Friday's DADA lesson was borderline torture for Harry. Moody had him trying to throw off the Imperious curse until he finally succeeded. Blaise and Draco were only forced to suffer through it once, which seemed extremely unfair to Harry.

That night in the entrance hall, a notice went up that was headed: TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT.

Harry was too short, though, to see it over the heads of the other students, much to Draco and Blaise's entertainment. Harry scowled impatiently as they both read the notice silently to themselves.

"Well?" Harry demanded.

"The other schools are coming to Hogwarts for the Tournament," Blaise explained, "October 30th at six o' clock."

"That cuts into Potions!" Harry exclaimed happily.

"Darn. I was so looking forward to Snape poisoning us all," Blaise said dryly.

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The week leading up to the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang was tense. Everyone was getting ready for the visitors, and everyone seemed on edge. Harry was especially tense after another letter arrived from Sirius. Apparently Harry's good sense did not appeal to his godfather, who planned to come north despite Harry's warning. Harry was beginning to wish he wasn't such a baby, running to his outlaw godfather-who obviously had more important things to worry about-every time his scar twinged.

Anticipation peaked on the 30th. Classes passed in a blur, as nobody was really paying any attention. When the bell rang, the entire school gathered in the entrance hall. For the first time in recent history, Harry found himself standing with both his Gryffindor friends and his Slytherin friends, acting as a buffer between the groups. McGonagall and Snape were marching past them every few moments, snapping instructions: "Straighten your hat, Weasley.", "Stand up straight, Potter."

And from Professor Snape: "Do something about that rat's nest, Potter.", "Don't roll your eyes, Draco.", and, "Granger, do stop your insufferable chattering."

It was all very nerve-wracking.

It seemed like hours that the school waited, speculating on how the other schools would arrive.

Finally, "_There!" _yelled a sixth year, pointing to the forest.

A giant carriage drawn by enormous winged horses soared over the grounds and crashed violently onto the front lawn. A boy in blue robes jumped from the carriage, and Harry stood on his toes to see better over an annoyingly tall third year.

He nearly gasped, because the woman who exited the carriage was as large as Hagrid.

Dumbledore suddenly broke into applause, and the students followed his example. As Dumbledore greeted this giant woman, Madame Maxime, a dozen or so boys and girls, all in their late teens, stepped out of the carriage, shivering and pulling their scarves tightly around their faces.

The Beauxbatons students-for that's who they were-and their Headmistress were escorted inside, and the Hogwarts students and staff went back to watching for Durmstrang's arrival.

Harry was watching a small brown bird fly across the grounds when Ron suddenly said, "Can you hear something?"

As soon as Harry's attention was drawn to the noise it was hard to ignore. It was a strange sort of muffled gurgling sound...

"The lake!" Lee Jordan shouted.

Everybody watched the lake raptly, as a whirlpool formed at the center of the black water. Slowly, a ship rose from the whirlpool. It emerged completely, and an anchor was thrown into the shallows. People were coming ashore, walking over a plank from the ship to the bank. They were all wearing shaggy cloaks of furs. The man leading them had sleek silver hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Then Karkaroff called forward a boy called Viktor to meet Dumbledore. The small group of Durmstrang students parted almost reverently for a boy with a large, curved nose and thick eyebrows.

Harry realized who it was just as Ron hissed in his ear, "Harry-it's _Krum_!"

It was indeed Viktor Krum, but just in case Harry wasn't perfectly clear on that point, Ron repeated it several more times in a dazed voice. On Harry's other side, Blaise rolled his eyes.

Once in the Great Hall, Harry separated from Ron and Hermione to sit at the Slytherin table. Draco was eyeing Krum with the same excitement that Ron had.

"I wonder if he brought his broom," Draco asked.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"A Seeker's match against Krum, Harry? I wonder if you could take him?"

"I doubt it," Harry replied.

"Oh! Here they come, Harry, scoot over."

Harry did as Draco said and a second later he found himself sitting next to Viktor Krum. Harry looked over at Ron at the Gryffindor table, who was positively green with envy.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco was introducing himself to Krum in that pompous way that he had.

"Hello," Krum said in a heavily accented voice, taking off the thick cloak he was wearing.

"I was wondering if you brought your broom with you," Draco said to Krum. Harry gawked at Draco in disbelief.

"Er...yes," Krum said.

"Excellent. My friend Harry, there beside you-yes, the one with the expression of a choking goldfish-he's the Seeker on the House team. The best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in over a century."

Harry closed his mouth quickly and glared daggers at Draco, who only smirked.

Krum turned to look at Harry. His eyes went immediately to Harry's scar. Then he looked back to his eyes.

"I'm not really...all that..." Harry muttered, his face heating considerably.

He was saved from further humiliation when Dumbledore stood, beaming. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and-most particularly-guests," he said.

"The Tournament will officially be opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Food appeared on the plates at each table and Harry began to pile his plate with food. Draco quickly engaged Krum in conversation again, this time telling him how he was almost sent to Durmstrang himself. Krum seemed more interested in the proposed game with Harry, which Harry tried to avoid accepting vigilantly.

He was in the middle of asking Krum for an autograph for Ron, and pointing out to Krum who Ron was, when he saw a strikingly blonde girl at the Gryffindor table talking to Ron.

Or attempting to. From the blank grin on Ron's face, he didn't really look like he was in the right state for intelligent conversation. Harry didn't really blame him. The girl seemed to have the same affect on him as the veelas at the World Cup.

The girl turned from the Gryffindor table and headed back to the Ravenclaws, passing Slytherin on the way. She didn't notice Harry in the slightest, but she did eye Draco, Draco, with interest. Harry turned back to his food, his chest growling unpleasantly.

"Who's the girl next to your friend?" Krum asked suddenly.

Harry turned to look at the Gryffindor table again, but the only girl near where Ron was sitting was Hermione. "You mean Hermione?" Harry asked. "What about her."

"She's very pretty," Krum said, stuffing potatoes into his mouth.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said.

By the time Dumbledore rose to speak, Harry was holding onto consciousness by a thread. He was in serious danger of falling face-first into his pudding. He got the gist of what Dumbledore was explaining-put your name in the Goblet, champions to be chosen Halloween night, nobody under seventeen, age line...

Harry trudged to the dungeons half-asleep, Draco and Blaise talking excitedly on either side of him about entering the Tournament and how Krum was sure to be a champion and how they hoped the Hogwarts champion wouldn't be a Gryffindor.

Harry didn't care, either way. He just wanted to go to sleep.

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**Thanks again!**


	5. Chapter Four

**Slytherin **

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_**Warnings: See Previous Chapters**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own HP**._

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**The Four Champions**

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On Halloween night, Harry sat at the Slytherin table in between Blaise and Krum. Draco was sitting across from them, chattering about a new Quidditch strategy that was sure to win them the house championship. Harry was on the brink of tuning him out when Dumbledore stood, demanding their silence.

"The Goblet will be ready to make its decision in a moment," Dumbledore said. "When the champion's names are called, I ask that they come to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through the door to the next chamber, where they will receive instructions on the first task."

Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it once around the Hall. The candles floating above the tables and along the walls extinguished, leaving the Great Hall in a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire shone in the dark, a bright blue-white color that stung Harry's eyes.

Suddenly the Goblet turned red, shooting off sparks in all directions. A piece of parchment shot out, which Dumbledore caught and read.

The students from all three schools waited in anticipation. Finally, Dumbledore announced: "The champion for Durmstrang will be _Viktor Krum_."

The Hall burst into applause and Viktor stood up, clapping Harry awkwardly on the back as he did so. He disappeared into the other room.

When the clapping died down, eyes were once again glued to the Goblet. Seconds passed and the Goblet turned red, spitting out another piece of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore read," will be _Fleur Delacour_!"

The veela-girl stood, and walked gracefully down the Hall to catcalls and deafening cheering. As she passed, she did it again-she looked directly at Draco, smiling coyly. Harry spun in his seat to see Draco's reaction, but he hadn't seemed to notice, instead clapping politely, looking bored.

When she had gone, the Goblet turned red once more and the last piece of parchment fluttered into the air and Dumbledore caught it.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called out delightedly, "is _Cedric Diggory_!"

At these words, the Hufflepuffs erupted into some sort of victory dance, stomping their feet and pounding on tables while chanting Cedric's name. The boy himself stood, blushing violently and grinning widely.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Dumbledore as Cedric left the hall. "Well, we now have our three champions! I'm sure that I can count on you all to support all your champions-"

He stopped speaking abruptly as the Goblet turned red again. The Hall was silent but for the murmurs of the younger students.

Blaise leaned closer, frowning. "It's not supposed to be doing that, is it?"

A fourth piece of parchment shot out of the Goblet, borne on a long tongue of red flame. Dumbledore caught it as it floated down and stared at it for a long moment. Finally, he cleared his throat and read-

"_Harry Potter_."

...There was a long silence and every student in the Hall turned to glare at him. Then the Hall began to buzz with angry mutters.

Harry had never really considered it before, how he would die. He assumed it would have something to do with Voldemort, or one of the freak accidents he was always getting himself into. Never had he thought that he would be killed by a horde of his angry peers. Yet that seemed to be becoming the most likely scenario.

Harry turned to look at Draco, who looked blankly back.

"I didn't put my name in," he said. He looked at Blaise. "You know I didn't."

Dumbledore called for him again, and Blaise nudged him out of his seat.

Harry walked to the front of the Hall and tried to ignore the openly hostile stares he was receiving. He came to a stop in front of the door, and stared at the old man pleadingly.

"Through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said. He didn't smile.

Harry was glad to walk through the door. Away from all the staring faces would be nicer.

Krum, Diggory, and the veela-girl-Fleur Delacour-stood around the fire. Harry noticed self-consciously how very tall they all were.

Fleur looked up at him and Harry's chest seemed to be growling again.

"What is it?" she asked. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

Harry just stared up at them, at a loss for words.

"Are you all right?" Krum asked.

The sound of footsteps made them all turn. Suddenly, a stampede of authority figures was headed toward Harry. He flinched, and Ludo Bagman grabbed his arm firmly.

"Gentlemen...lady," he announced importantly. "May I introduce-incredibly-the _fourth_ Triwizard champion."

Harry stared blankly at Bagman, then at the other champions. Krum's face had darkened.

Harry felt like he was dreaming. The Heads of the schools were all arguing and Moody was watching him carefully with _both_ eyes and Harry was sure he was about to pass out.

And suddenly he was staring at Cedric Diggory and wondering obsessively if he was really as gay as Draco said, even if it had nothing to do with anything.

Dumbledore shook him back into reality. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," Harry said.

"Did you ask an older student to do it for you?"

"_No_," Harry said.

He glanced back at Cedric, then at Krum, looking for some support. Krum looked very upset indeed, and Cedric-winked.

Harry blinked in confusion. It wasn't like the wink was-gay-it was more of a reassuring wink. Still, Harry blushed to the roots of his hair and looked away.

"If anyone's got any reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody growled suddenly, "but...funny thing... I don't hear _him_ saying a word."

"Why should 'e complain?" cried Fleur, stomping one feminine foot angrily. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money-zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter _is_ going to die for it," Moody said.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who looked uneasy at Moody's words. He glanced at Cedric, who was definitely not winking anymore, then he looked at Moody, who had a mad glint in his eye. In fact, Harry looked at every person in the room at least twice and still the silence dragged on.

"How this situation arose, we do not know. It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it."

Madame Maxime began to protest, but Dumbledore cut her off. "My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

There was a long silence again before Bagman spoke, "Well, shall we crack on, then?" he asked.

Mr. Barty Crouch began to explain the first task:

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he began, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges..."

Eventually, the champions were sent off to bed, Harry walking beside Cedric. Harry watched Cedric, and Cedric glanced at him suspiciously, smiling falsely.

Harry didn't mean to say it. It was almost as if Draco himself had floated into Harry's brain and took control.

"So you're gay," he blurted.

Cedric paused, looking like he'd just been hit by a freight train. He stared at Harry, gaping.

The pause gave him away, and there was no way for Cedric to deny it. Finally, he licked his lips and whispered, "Where'd you hear that?"

"My friend Draco," Harry said.

"How does he know?" Cedric asked.

Harry shrugged. "He just knows these things."

"So you don't have any proof, really," Cedric said, his voice uncharacteristically high.

"Well, besides your reaction, no," Harry said. "But we weren't going to tell anyone anyway."

"Fuck," Cedric spat. Harry was startled-he didn't think Hufflepuffs ever swore. "Listen, Potter, if you or your friend breathes a word-"

"We won't," Harry repeated. "Really, I was just curious."

Cedric snorted. "Well, excuse me for not trusting Slytherins." He cleared his throat. "Fine. Now you know a secret about me. So you have to tell me...how'd you get your name in the Goblet?"

"I _didn't_," Harry said in annoyance. "I was telling the truth. I don't want any of this. But I understand if you don't believe me. I'm nothing but a _Slytherin_, after all."

"Sorry," Cedric said grudgingly. "So then, is Moody right? Is someone trying to kill you?"

"I don't know," Harry said, thinking of Voldemort.

"It's completely mad that you're being allowed to compete," Cedric said. "You're only fourteen years old."

"I was aware of that, thanks," Harry said dryly.

"Sorry," Cedric said again, not sounding it. "Well, 'night then."

"G'night," Harry replied, heading down to the dungeons.

When he entered the common room, there was a blast of noise that nearly scared him out of his skin.

Marcus Flint was suddenly assaulting him and grinning with crooked teeth, while a second year jumped around nervously, rattling off questions about the first task. Harry was tempted to swat him in annoyance. After shaking them off, along with an overly-friendly Pansy Parkinson, Harry found Blaise, who slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Well played, Harry! How'd you do it?" Blaise asked, grinning widely.

"I didn't," Harry replied. "I didn't enter. I just wanted a quiet year at Hogwarts, for once."

Blaise patted Harry's back calmly. "Well, looks like it won't be this year. Oh well. However it happened, I'm glad it's a Slytherin. You want any punch?"

"No. Where's Draco?" he said, searching the common room. But it seemed that the only person that he really wanted to see wasn't there.

"Ah..." Blaise said, "he's in the dormitory. Sulking."

Harry growled. "He's angry with me then?" Harry demanded.

"Yeah," Blaise replied. "But he's always angry with you over something."

Harry groaned in frustration. "I guess I'll go face him then. I'm about to turn in anyway. 'Night."

He waded through the rest of the party, shaking off a _truly_ annoying Pansy Parkinson. When he made it to the dormitory, he shut the door behind him, muffling the sound of the music that was blasting in the common room.

The curtains on Draco's bad were drawn when Harry entered. Harry tread very carefully around his bed. If Draco was asleep, Harry didn't want to wake him.

"Drake?" Harry whispered. "You awake in there?"

"Rejoice," Draco's voice returned from inside, "the conquering hero has returned."

Harry sighed. "Is this going to be a long argument?" he asked.

"Not at all," Draco replied icily. "You're a selfish git, and I won't be speaking to you ever again."

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet, I swear," Harry said, feeling quite stupid because he was talking to a curtain. There was no reply from inside.

"Draco?" Harry asked.

"What part of 'not speaking to you' didn't penetrate your thick skull, Potter?"

Harry scowled, his anger reaching its boiling point. Not only did Draco not trust him, but he didn't even have the balls to face him. Harry reached out to pull back the curtains, but before he even touched the fabric, Draco's voice came, "Don't you dare touch the curtains, Potter. I will end you."

Harry froze. "How did you-"

"Because I'm a Malfoy, and because I'm a Slytherin," Draco replied. "And no, Potter, you are not a Slytherin. I don't care what the damn Hat said, you are quite obviously a Gryffindor. You're stupid and reckless and you go out of your way to get yourself killed."

The curtains went silent, and Harry waited sullenly for more scolding. None came.

"Fine," he snarled, and jumped into his own bed, pulling the curtains shut around him.

* * *

**Thanks!**


	6. Chapter Five

__

**Slytherin **

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****

_Warnings: See Previous Chapters_

_Disclaimer: I don't own HP _

* * *

**Cedric Diggory ****

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**

"I hate him," Harry said for the thousandth time. "I really and truly hate him."

"Are you talking about Ron or Malfoy this time?" Hermione asked in a tone that suggested that she would rather be feeding skrewts than having this conversation again.

Harry considered this for a moment. "Ron," he decided. "I mean, at least Draco isn't being a jealous prat. He's angry because he thinks I'm an idiot."

Hermione smiled, tossing a piece of her toast from breakfast a few feet into the lake. "You mean he isn't used to it yet?" she asked cheekily.

Harry scowled at her. "Thanks for that." He watched Hermione's discarded toast float on for a few more feet, before it sank beneath the surface.

It was late morning, though still slightly chilly. Harry's eyes were drooping as he stared at the dark water-he hadn't slept properly for days.

At lunch Harry sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table with Hermione, even though the hostile glares that the other Gryffindors were sending him should have scared him back to his dorm. Really, the only House in the school that didn't hate him passionately was his own, who were just happy to have some of the glory for once.

A gaggle of swooning girls drifted by, and at the center of them was Cedric, smiling at each of his adoring fans in turn. Harry scowled, turning back to his food in disdain.

But that wasn't the last he saw of Cedric. The Hufflepuff seemed to haunt him through the halls all day long, much to Harry's annoyance. Even when he wasn't physically there, someone was always talking about him. Honestly, Harry didn't understand why everyone loved him so much. Sure, he had great hair. And sure, he was extremely charming and kind to basically everyone.

Fine, so Harry could understand why everyone loved Cedric. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

He was heading down to Potions later that day when Cedric rounded the corner in front of Harry so quickly that Harry nearly did a face-plant against his chest. As it was, Harry found himself staring at the skin of Cedric's chest that showed just above the collar of his V-neck shirt. Hermione nudged him, and he took a hasty step backwards when he realized that he was very much inside Cedric's personal space.

"Where are you going?" Cedric asked.

"To class," Harry replied. "Why?"

"No one told you about the ceremony?" Cedric asked.

Harry was filled with sudden dread. "What ceremony?"

"The weighing of wands, or some such. All the champions have to be there. I think the _Prophet_ is doing a piece on the Tournament."

"No, nobody said anything," Harry said.

Just then, the bell for classes started. Hermione sighed in irritation. "I have to go," she said, running down the corridor and disappearing into the dungeons.

"C'mon, I'll walk with you," Cedric said, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him a few feet down the hallway.

"Er, alright," Harry said, and Cedric released him.

They went up the main stairway. A few students that were still in the halls grinned at Cedric as he passed, and in the same breath, glared death at Harry. Harry tried to stay close to Cedric, but it was difficult-Cedric had much longer legs than Harry.

"Thanks for this," Harry said, because he figured it was polite. "I never would have known about this wand weighing thing if you hadn't told me."

"No problem, Harry," Cedric smiled. "I've been meaning to thank you, myself. For keeping quiet about the-" he lowered his voice-"that thing we talked about."

"I said I would, didn't I?" Harry reminded.

"Well, yes," Cedric conceded. "I just didn't really believe it."

"Because I'm a Slytherin," Harry stated flatly.

"Er...yeah," Cedric admitted. "I've really never met one that doesn't take advantage of...never mind. Here we are," he said, knocking on the door before entering.

They were in a small classroom. Most of the desks were pushed against the wall.

Fleur was already there, looking bored. Harry still didn't like her, but couldn't help staring as she flipped her long blonde hair over one shoulder. Harry could see even Cedric looking at her with interest.

Also in the room were Ludo Bagman, a witch in bright magenta robes, and a squat man carrying a camera.

Only a few minutes later, Krum slouched in, looking moody.

"Ah! Here we all are!" Ludo exclaimed happily. "This shouldn't take too long, it's just a wand weighing ceremony. We want to check if your wands function properly for the Tournament. Then there'll be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added. "She's doing a piece on the Tournament for the _Daily Prophet_."

Rita Skeeter was staring at him greedily. "I wonder if I could have a word with Harry before we start," she said, still staring at Harry even as she addressed Bagman. "The youngest champion, you know...to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "If that's alright with Harry, that is." He looked at Harry expectantly.

"Er...I'd rather-" he began.

"Excellent," said Rita Skeeter, and before Harry could protest, he was hauled into a broom closet, wondering if perhaps he would never see the light of day again. His frightening interrogation only ended when, several minutes later, Dumbledore saved him from further questioning.

Harry blinked the dust from his eyes when he came out of the cupboard. The classroom had filled more during Harry's interview from hell.

Now, Mr. Crouch, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff were sitting at a table with Dumbledore and Bagman. Harry sat quickly beside Cedric, almost tipping his chair over.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore said.

Mr. Ollivander looked no older than he had four years ago, when Harry had bought his wand.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, first, if you please?" Ollivander said.

Fleur glided over to Ollivander, handing him her wand. He examined it carefully.

"My, my," he said, "this contains..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur finished for him. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

Cedric laughed softly beside him. "I knew she must have veela blood in her," he said quietly to Harry.

Ollivander then inspected Cedric and Krum's wands, before calling up Harry.

"Aaaah, yes," Mr. Ollivander said, taking the wand reverently. He examined it carefully, for much longer than the other wands before handing it back to Harry. He looked closely at Harry's scar before saying, "Curious, very curious."

After the wand weighing extravaganza, the champions and judges grouped together for a photo shoot. Then, after each champion had their single shots taken, they were released

At dinner, Harry sat down next to Blaise, ignoring the glare that Draco sent him. Hermione had gone inexplicably missing, so Harry had no where else to go. When he brought it up, Blaise glanced darkly at Draco, but said nothing.

* * *

Later that night, Harry got a letter from Sirius in response to the one he'd sent shortly after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire.

It said basically what Harry had expected-be careful, write back about anything suspicious-but it also said that Sirius wanted to meet with Harry on the 22nd of November.

Then, the article on the Tournament came out, even though it was solely based on the sob story that was Rita Skeeter's spin on Harry's entire life. Krum and Fleur were only mentioned once, briefly, and Skeeter had apparently forgotten that Cedric existed. He was really beginning to wish that he had shoved Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill up her nose when he'd had the chance.

Because of the article, it seemed that even the majority of Slytherins had turned on Harry, and he spent every day for a week being shoved violently against suits of armors or tripped while walking through the Great Hall. Peeves had taken to following Harry around, littering tissue paper throughout the halls in Harry's wake. Filch had found this to be a suitable reason to give Harry detention for a week, though McGonagall had taken pity on him and overturned the decision.

All in all, Harry was beginning to notice some similarities between his life and Hell.

* * *

A few nights later, Harry sat awake on his bed, looking over the Marauders Map and glaring at the closed curtains on Draco's bed in turn. Harry found it calming to look at the Map and watch other people moving around the castle. He was nervous-the first task was approaching quickly and Harry was starting to worry about what he would have to face.

So he made himself study the Map instead of thinking about it.

Tonight there wasn't really anything out of place on the Map. Dumbledore was in his office, pacing. Fred and George were sneaking into Hogsmeade as they did every few nights lately. Ron was asleep in his dormitory, though Hermione was still awake in the common room, probably reading. Snape was doing his nightly patrol around the Astronomy Tower.

Then Harry spotted a dot exiting the entrance hall, marked _Cedric Diggory_.

Harry recalled that Cedric was a prefect, but it was way too late for him to still be making rounds. Besides that, it didn't make sense for him to be outside on the grounds.

Curious and, now that he could admit it, slightly obsessed; Harry grabbed the Invisibility Cloak as well as a regular one, for warmth. He paused before leaving, though. Finally, he grabbed an extra cloak, in case Cedric needed it, and the Map, and shoved them into his bag. He pulled the Cloak over his head, and left the Slytherin dorms. He pulled out the Map once or twice to see if anyone was heading his way, then tapped it with his wand and muttered, "Mischief managed," when he reached the doors to the grounds.

There was a decent amount of moonlight illuminating the grounds, but it was very cold and Harry was glad to have a cloak on.

He spotted Cedric sitting on the grass by the lake, several meters from where the Durmstrang ship was tied.

Harry pulled off the Cloak a few feet away from Cedric. "Hey," he said.

Cedric jumped, looking back at him. "Where'd you come from?" Cedric asked. He eyed the silvery material of Harry's invisibility cloak. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, shoving it in his bag. He sat down next to Cedric tentatively, considering that he didn't know if he was welcome. Cedric didn't protest, just huddled up a little more against a brief gust of cold wind. As expected, he hadn't thought so far as to bring a cloak.

"Here," Harry said, pulling the extra cloak from his bag. It was Blaise's. All of Harry's cloaks would have been too small on Cedric.

Cedric took it, staring at Harry skeptically. "How did you know...?"

Harry shrugged, thinking of a way to explain that wouldn't involve admitting that he was a stalker. "I'm just...special like that," he replied vaguely.

A smile tugged at one corner of Cedric's lips. "I'm beginning to see that," he said quietly, pulling the cloak on. "Thank you."

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" Harry said.

"I couldn't sleep," Cedric replied. "I'm a little tense, I guess."

"Because of the first task?" Harry asked. He knew the feeling.

Cedric laughed weakly. "That's part of it."

They both looked out to the lake as the Giant Squid surfaced momentarily, before slipping back into the deep end.

"Well, what's the rest of it?" Harry asked cautiously.

Cedric smiled a bit. "I doubt you'd understand," he said. "Besides, you don't want to listen to...gay bloke issues."

"Nonsense," Harry said. "Draco makes me listen to them all the time." He froze in horror as he realized what he'd let slip. "I mean..." he stuttered. But the damage was done.

Cedric blinked once, twice, three times in disbelief, and then some more. "Draco _Malfoy_? He's...gay?"

"Please don't tell anyone," Harry said quickly.

"I won't, I swear. Draco Malfoy...I bet his father isn't very happy about that," Cedric mused.

"Draco hasn't told him," Harry said. "It's probably best if he never finds out."

"Draco Malfoy..." Cedric repeated.

"Yeah. Why, you want a go at him?"

Cedric laughed explosively. "Me and Malfoy? No. Not my type. Really, really not my type."

Harry found that Cedric's laughter was infectious, and was suddenly lying back on the grass, giggling like a fool. "Well, if you don't like him, there's Seamus Finnegan." Then Harry groaned, sitting up again and burying his head in his hands as he realized that he'd just outed two people in as many minutes.

Cedric was laughing breathlessly. "I see it's a miracle that you haven't outed me yet," he said.

"Shut up," Harry protested, but his heart wasn't really in it. Eventually, Cedric's laughter subsided, leaving them in silence again.

Finally, Cedric sighed. "It isn't even really a problem," he said. "I'm just being stupid."

It took Harry a moment to realize that Cedric had gone back to the original conversation.

"What d'you mean?" he asked.

"The guys were just...being guys, I guess. They like to talk about girls a lot and sometimes I feel a little...isolated."

"That is a bit stupid," Harry said. "Why don't you just tell them?"

A pained look crossed Cedric's face, and Harry wished that he could take back what he'd said.

"I come from a pureblood family, Harry," he said. "We might not be as prestigious as the _Malfoys_, but we do have some of the same traditions. And expectations."

"Oh."

"Once I'm out of the house, then I'll tell my parents. I'm not too worried about how my mother will react. But my father...well you know how fathers are."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "No, actually. Not really."

Cedric gasped, looking horrified. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking..."

"No matter," Harry said, smiling reluctantly.

Cedric checked his watch. "We should get inside," he said decisively. He rose to his feet, turning and offering a hand up to Harry. Harry took it and Cedric pulled him off the ground easily.

"Thanks for the cloak," Cedric said, reaching to take it off.

"Keep it," Harry said quickly. "You can return it later."

Cedric smiled. "Thanks, Harry. I'll see you later.

* * *

Harry found it incredibly difficult to sleep that night.


	7. Chapter Six

**Slytherin**

* * *

_**Warnings: See Previous Chapters**_

_**Disclaimer: I dont' own HP**_

* * *

**The First Task**

* * *

He needed to snap out of it.

Harry'd been distracted ever since the night he talked with Cedric, and now he realized, as he watched the older Hufflepuff walk to his seat in the Great Hall, that he was nearly obsessed with the boy. So he needed to snap out of it.

He went to classes in a daze, then accidentally knocked over a cauldron in potions, earning him a detention with Snape during the next Hogsmeade weekend. What made matters worse was that Draco was still giving him the cold shoulder, and that Ron's anger with him hadn't subsided at all.

So when he got a letter from Hagrid after his detention with Snape, he was glad for the distraction.

The letter told him to meet Hagrid at his hut at midnight, and to bring the Invisibility Cloak with him. The prospect of sneaking around with Hagrid in the dead of night made Harry slightly nervous, but he decided not to tell Blaise or Hermione about it. Both of them would probably try to stop him. That's why he especially missed Ron—he was always game for a little late-night sneaking about.

Then again, there was the fact that he was supposed to meet Sirius at one in the morning that same night, and meeting Hagrid might make him late for it. That was another reason for concern. How was Sirius going to get onto the grounds? He couldn't afford to be caught and Harry wouldn't let Sirius be sent back to Azkaban for something as stupid as a tri-wizard tournament, no matter how dangerous it was supposed to be.

He ultimately decided to meet Hagrid anyway. Hagrid never encouraged Harry to leave the dormitory after dark, so if he was asking Harry for a moonlit walk now, it was probably important. At half past eleven, Harry donned the Invisibility Cloak and left the dungeons. He slipped through the front doors onto the grounds.

It was very dark. From outside the castle, he could see Hagrid's hut lit up in the distance, as well as several lights from the Beauxbatons carriage and the dark silhouette of Durmstrang's ship. He trudged across the ground to Hagrid's. Harry knocked tentatively at Hagrid's door.

Hagrid opened it, whispering, "Harry? That you?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered back. He let the cloak slip off so Hagrid could see his head. "What's up?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," Hagrid replied quietly.

"What is it?" Harry asked warily. The last few times Hagrid had called him down to look at something, that something was Norbert the baby dragon, or the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"Come with me," Hagrid said quietly. "And keep under yer cloak. Don't want anyone to know you're out of bed so late."

"Okay, but it needs to be quick. I have to be back in an hour," Harry told him.

Hagrid ignored him and led Harry away, toward the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid," Harry hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Shh!" Hagrid shushed him. "Keep quiet." He knocked at the carriage door.

Madame Maxime opened it. "Ah, 'Agrid…is it time?"

"Bong-sewer," Hagrid said, butchering the French greeting terribly. Harry nearly gagged at the fawning tone he had taken on. Hagrid reached out and helped Madame Maxime down the giant golden steps of the carriage. It was becoming quickly apparent that Hagrid had brought him along on what seemed to be a date with the Beauxbatons headmistress. Harry was an invisible third wheel.

"Wair is it that you are taking me, 'Agrid?" Madame Maxime said as Hagrid led them toward the very edge of the Forbidden Forest, leading them around the perimeter.

"Yeh'll enjoy this," Hagrid assured her. "It's worth seein', trust me. Just don' tell anyone I showed yeh, right? It's supposed ter be a secret."

Harry sighed. He had to be back at the castle by one. He hoped this wouldn't take much longer.

They'd followed the forest's edge so far that Harry couldn't see the castle or the lake when he looked back. From up ahead, he heard men yelling, piquing his interest. Then there was a deafening roar and Harry stopped in his tracks. That sounded like…

He trotted to keep up with Hagrid and Madame Maxime as they arrived at their destination. It was just as Harry'd feared-_dragons_.

Four of them, each enormous in size. They were held inside enclosures fenced with thick planks of wood. The night sky was lit again and again as they shot columns of fire into the air from their huge mouths. There was a silvery-blue one, the exact color of Draco's eyes, which was tossing its head and growling at the wizards that run about its feet. Another one was green, and it writhed within its enclosure, stomping with all its might as if that might free it. There was a red one with a fringe of gold spikes around its face, making it resemble a lion, and finally a black one, bigger than the rest, which looked more like what Harry expected a dragon to look than the others.

There was a huge group of wizards, maybe thirty strong, that rushed around, trying to control the dragons. They pulled on heavy chains, attached to thick leather straps around the dragon's necks and legs. Harry watched the black dragon as it fought against them, howling in rage. Harry wondered how there was no one at the castle that could hear this racket.

"Is'n' it beautiful?" Hagrid asked dazedly.

_No_, Harry thought to himself,_ it's bloody terrifying._

"It's no good!" one of the men yelled. "Stunning Spells on the count of three!"

Harry watched the dragon keepers pulled out their wands.

"_Stupefy!"_ they called out in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness, hitting the dragons' hides in a shower of red sparks. The black dragon teetered dangerously on its back feet, nostrils still smoking before it fell with a giant _thud_ that made the ground quake. The dragon keepers set about securing their charges, tightening the chains and fastening them to the ground with iron pegs.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. Harry followed as they stepped forward. Thoughts of Sirius were forgotten as he walked within twenty feet of an unconscious dragon.

As Hagrid moved forward to talk to Charlie Weasley, Harry ventured closer to the silver-blue dragon. It was laying limply on its side, its enormous mouth slightly open to reveal fangs as long as Harry's forearm. The smell of sulfur and smoke surrounded it. As it slept, some of the dragon keepers moved a clutch of eggs over and laid them at the dragon's side.

Harry wished Draco was there with him. Draco loved dragons, and this one seemed to be the dragon incarnation of him. It had a strangely aristocratic look about it that reminded Harry very much of Draco.

He tore himself away and went to the big one; the one Charlie called the Hungarian Horntail. It looked nearly twenty feet bigger than the others. As it slept, its nostrils still smoked, an occasional spark or two shooting out like fireflies. Its enormous tail was covered with bronze-colored spikes.

He'd have to fight a dragon, Harry realized suddenly. That was the first task. Hagrid had risked a lot to show Harry this, and surely Madame Maxime would warn Fleur. But even with this fair warning, how could they expect him to fight past a dragon? He knew little about dragons except that they seemed to be made expressly for killing other creatures. He didn't know any of their weaknesses, or how to fight one. Draco would probably know, not that he'd talk to Harry about it even if Harry's life depended on it.

Harry had had enough. Besides that, he would soon be late for his meeting with Sirius. He doubted that Hagrid would miss him much anyway, considering there were four live dragons to entertain him. Silently, he turned and headed back to the castle at a jog. He was sure to be late, and how would he feel if he forced Sirius to wait around for so long that someone caught him? No, Harry wouldn't be responsible for Sirius's capture.

As he picked up speed he felt himself getting sicker and sicker, his stomach clenching with anxiety. A dragon. A _dragon._ He had to fight a dragon with only his wand. He didn't even know what sort of spell to use against a dragon—he'd have just as much luck jabbing his wand in the dragons eye and hoping that it would be momentarily blinded so that he could kill it with a bloody miracle.

Deep in thought, Harry collided with something and fell backwards, knocking his glasses askew.

"Ow!" a nearby voice exclaimed. "Who's there?"

Harry hastily rearranged the cloak so that he was sure it covered all of him. He lay very still, trying to slow his breathing. He had run head-first into Karkaroff.

"Who's there?" Karkaroff repeated suspiciously. Harry continued to pretend to be made of silent stone. After a minute, Karkaroff seemed to shrug off the collision and carried on his way. Harry watched him as he skirted the forest's edge, heading towards where the dragons were held.

Karkaroff would know, then, about the dragons, and undoubtedly tell Krum. Madame Maxime would tell Fleur. Hagrid had warned him. That meant that Cedric was the only one that wouldn't know what to expect on Tuesday. Which hardly seemed fair.

Harry got up from the ground and started to run back towards the castle. He would surely be late now. Sirius would be a sitting duck in the Slytherin common room. He'd be caught and sent back to Azkaban to await the dementor's kiss and it would all be Harry's fault.

He ran down to the dungeons, removing his cloak just before he reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. He was about to say the password when he heard voices. One was very familiar.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said stubbornly. Harry could hear the venom in his voice.

"Nonsense," the second voice replied in a strong French accent. Harry's eyes narrowed. Fleur.

"You feel it just as strongly as I do," she continued. "I don't see vhy you deny it. Eet is nothing to be ashamed of."

"It's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of," Draco agreed impatiently, "but I'm denying it because it's the truth!"

Harry peeked around the corner into one of the many hidden corners in Hogwarts' dungeons. Fleur stood with her back to Harry and Draco stood opposite her, a scowl on his face. Feeling certain that Draco wouldn't rat him out for being out after hours, seeing as he was likely to get into just as much trouble, Harry stepped out so that Draco could see him.

Draco's glare softened. "Harry?" he said.

Fleur turned to stare at Harry. Harry stared back. He wondered how she would react when Madame Maxime told her about the dragons.

"What's wrong Potter?" Draco said, adopting his usual sneer that he used when he was mad at Harry. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Only the slightly worried crease in Draco's brow told Harry that he wasn't taunting him. He was concerned.

"It's dragons," Harry said to Fleur.

"What?" she said, looking beautifully confused. Harry wondered if Draco was attracted to her. Even Cedric had looked at her with interest, and he was gay. Harry didn't think sexual preference made a difference when veela blood was involved.

"The first task," he said breathlessly. "We have to fight dragons."

Fleur looked ill. "You are lying," she said. "Zat is impossible. Zat is mad!"

"Madame Maxime saw them too," Harry said. "Don't tell anyone I told you though. We aren't supposed to know."

He looked past her again at Draco. Draco's mouth hung open in shock and Harry was slightly amused to see that he looked completely idiotic for once.

Harry realized with a jolt—Sirius.

"I have to go," he said quickly, turning the corner and speaking the password to the wall. He rushed into the common room and looked around for any sign of Sirius. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, though it seemed to Harry that it would have died long ago. He looked at the clock. It read one minute till fifteen past one. He was very late.

He waited for ten minutes, but no one else showed up, not even Draco. Harry wondered where he'd gone off to. He was fairly sure that if Sirius had been there, he'd managed not to be captured. Harry thought there'd probably be some sort of commotion if a mass murderer had been caught on school grounds.

At half past one in the morning, Harry retired to his dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle were sleeping soundly as usual, their snores filling the room. Harry pulled back the curtains to his bed.

"Harry?" a voice said and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Blaise pulled back the curtains to his bed and looked out at him. "Where were you?"

Harry looked at Blaise's tired face. "I'll tell you in the morning," he replied.

"Do you know where Draco went?" Blaise asked.

"No idea," Harry said apologetically. "He'll be back. Go back to bed."

"Wish you two'd stop fighting," Blaise grumbled. "All you ever do is fight."

Harry had noticed that as well.

* * *

"You missed Sirius?" Hermione squawked indignantly and Harry shushed her quickly.

"Dragons, Hermione," he reminded her. "Dragons."

"Yes, I understand," Hermione said doubtfully. "It's incredibly frightening. But Harry, Sirius obviously had something very important to talk to you about."

"More important than my impending death?" Harry challenged.

Hermione frowned worriedly. "You won't die Harry, we'll figure something out."

"Will we?" he said with false cheeriness. "What do we know about dragons? If you have any idea how to beat one, please, enlighten me."

"We'll just have to spend a little time in the library," Hermione said firmly. "There's sure to be some spell—"

"Yeah," Harry said distractedly. At the Hufflepuff table, Cedric had just risen, followed by a group of his friends. Harry rose to follow him, figuring that Cedric needed to be warned about the first task. It wouldn't be fair if he was the only champion that didn't know what was going on. Harry followed Cedric and his friends at a distance. He didn't want to bring too much attention to himself, considering that all the Hufflepuffs hated him now. The whole school hated him, really. Cedric couldn't really afford to be seen with Harry.

Harry took aim at Cedric's book bag with his wand. "_Diffindo!" _he muttered, and the bag split, spilling all of Cedric's things to the ground.

Cedric turned to collect his things off the ground when he saw Harry. Harry pocketed his wand deliberately, so that Cedric could see it. Cedric's head tilted in confusion. He turned to his friends. "You guys go ahead. Tell Flitwick I'll be along."

His friends left and Harry moved forward to help Cedric pick his things up off the floor. "Sorry about your bag," he said.

"I can fix it," Cedric said dismissively. "Though if you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask."

Harry looked up at him to smile gratefully. "Well, I'm not very popular these days…" he said slowly.

"Ah, so you're trying to protect my reputation?" Cedric said, laughing brightly. "How very chivalrous of you. Very Gryffindor."

Harry flushed. "It's not an insult to me like it is to other Slytherins, you know," Harry said. "I like Gryffindors."

"What was it that you so desperately needed to tell me?" Cedric asked, mending his back with a quick spell.

"It's about the first task," Harry said, his formally flushed face now pale just thinking about it. "Cedric, it's dragons."

Cedric looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"Dragons," Harry repeated quickly. "There are four, one for each of us. We have to get past them or something."

Cedric gaped at him, mouth moving but no sound coming out. "You're sure?" he finally whispered, looking around the corridor for eavesdroppers.

"Dead sure," Harry said. "I saw them myself."

"How? We aren't supposed to find out—"

"Never mind that," Harry said, trying to protect Hagrid. "Just trust me."

"I do. I know you wouldn't lie," Cedric said. He blinked slowly, looking off into the distance. "Wow. I never thought I'd say that about a Slytherin," he mused.

Harry shifted uneasily, trying to feel more offended for his House. "Yes, well, you can appreciate the irony later," he said.

"Why are you telling me though?" Cedric asked.

Harry hadn't expected that question and his mind stalled briefly. Why _had_ he told Cedric? When Cedric hadn't known, Harry had had an advantage over him. Now he'd given that advantage away. It was very un-Slytherin of him. "Well…it's just fair, isn't it?"

Cedric frowned in confusion.

"I mean, Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were there, so Fleur and Krum must know by now," Harry reasoned. He left out the part where he'd been the one to first tell Fleur. He wouldn't have bothered to if he hadn't run into her in the dungeons. He had a very satisfying mental image of her running about with her lovely hair on fire, a dragon chasing behind her. Then he immediately felt bad for thinking such a thing.

Cedric still looked vaguely confused, but Harry was late for class and couldn't really sit around and explain it to him. "Well, now we're on equal footing," Harry said. "I'm really sorry about your bag…" He turned to leave but Cedric caught him by the arm.

"I still have your cloak from the other night," Cedric said. Harry was surprised that Cedric had remembered. That night had been about a week ago.

Harry nodded dumbly. "Yeah."

"Well I need to return it to you," Cedric said awkwardly. "It's the least I could do, since you've been so great to me…"

"What, now?" Harry asked. "We have classes."

Cedric shrugged. "Who's really going to miss us?" he asked. "It doesn't hurt to take a day off once in a while." He grinned mischievously.

Harry shifted from foot to foot. "I guess…"

"Come on then, "Cedric said. He led Harry down the stairs to the Entrance Hall and took a door off to the right that brought them to another staircase. Harry followed Cedric down them and they came to a still life painting. Cedric spoke the password and the portrait opened.

The Hufflepuff common room reminded Harry a lot of the Gryffindor one, but with a color scheme of black and yellow. There were hangings and comfy-looking armchairs circled around a currently dead fireplace. A few younger year Hufflepuffs were sitting out playing wizarding chess and other games. They stared at Harry with derision as he entered.

"Come on," Cedric said again and led Harry down a wide underground tunnel. It was lit dimly by torches, and at the end of it they came to a round door that looked like a barrel top. Cedric pushed it open.

"This is my dorm," he said, crossing the room to his dresser immediately. He pulled it open and pulled out a cloak with the Slytherin emblem on the front left breast pocket.

"Here," Cedric said, handing it back to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"About the dragons," Cedric said. "Do you have any idea what you're going to do to beat one?"

"No," Harry said. "I hardly know anything about dragons," he admitted.

"They aren't easy to enchant," Cedric said absently, as if he was talking to himself. "Spells tend to bounce right off them, unless there're about half a dozen wizards firing at the same time."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Harry said bitterly, remembering the team of wizards it took to bring down the Horntail.

Cedric looked at Harry. "You said you've seen them?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "They're all huge and scaly and breathe fire. Why?"

"I've never seen a dragon," Cedric said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm not sure if I ever want to, now that I think about it."

"Well, there's not much of a choice now, is there?" Harry said.

"Right." Cedric went back to his thoughts. "The easiest way to get past it would probably be distraction."

_Yes,_ Harry thought skeptically. _Distracting a ten-ton fire breathing lizard. No problem. _"What kind of distraction?"

Cedric paced the room, deep in thought. "A transfiguration, maybe. If we could create some other creature that could get the dragon's attention…."

He looked at Harry. "And you probably haven't learned any advanced transfiguration anyway. What spells are you best at?"

"Er," Harry said, thinking. "Defense spells, really. And Stunning and Disarming spells."

Cedric shook his head. "No, those won't work against a dragon. Come on, there has to be something else that you're good at."

"I…I can fly," Harry said. "I'm a fair flyer."

Cedric paused. "Yes, you are. More than fair, really."

"But I'm not allowed a broom," Harry pointed out.

"No," Cedric said. "No, you aren't."

"Well…well can I transfigure one?" Harry asked hopefully.

Cedric shook his head again. Harry was beginning to lose hope that he was capable of bringing down a dragon in any way. He really was too young to be a participant in this tournament.

"No. I mean, you could transform something into a broomstick, but it sure won't be able to fly. You'd have to know all the broom-making charms and be able to cast them in less than a minute."

"So that's out," Harry said. "I'm just going to die then, aren't I?"

Cedric looked up at Harry in surprise. "Of course not. I won't let that happen," he said, grinning. "If that dragon makes one wrong move towards you, I'll be out on that field in seconds and I'll have its head."

Harry looked at him skeptically. "I'm serious, you know."

Cedric sobered. "Harry, you won't die. Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."

They were silent for a few moments, and Harry looked around the dorm again, wondering who shared this room with Cedric.

Cedric suddenly perked up. "Hey, do you know the Summoning Charm?"

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how time passed so quickly, but suddenly the first task was upon him.

He had the instructions—get the golden egg, escape the dragon, don't die. And of course, he had the honor of facing the Hungarian Horntail—the nastiest of the bunch.

The three other champions had faced their dragons, and as far as he could tell, they'd all lived (he wondered briefly if Cedric was alright). Far from relieving Harry, it made him almost positive that whatever disaster that was sure to occur would happen to him. He was quite nauseated when the whistle blew, calling him out to face a dragon.

He walked out of the tent, panic coursing through his veins like a drug. Faces were staring at him from all sides, but that didn't seem to matter as much as the giant Horntail, crouched over her eggs, eyes narrowed in Harry's direction. As a warning, she whipped her black-scaled, spiked tail around, gouging marks into solid ground.

Harry decided that now would be a good time to use his wand.

"_Accio Firebolt!"_ he yelled, focusing all his energy into getting his broom from the school to where he was. He waited, hoping. Minutes passed, and doubt wormed its way into his mind. What if it didn't come?

But then he heard it, speeding through the air towards him. It stopped suddenly beside him, and Harry grabbed it and mounted. He pushed off into the air, ascending until the dragon was no larger than a dog.

He looked down, saw the golden egg like it was just the golden snitch. If he could just get a hold of it, he'd win, the game would end…

He dived. The Horntail watched as he did, shooting a jet of fire from her mouth that Harry dodged.

Bagman, the commentator, cried to the crowd, "Great Scot, he can fly! Are you seeing this Mr. Krum?"

_Are you seeing this, Cedric?_ Harry wondered to himself. He'd helped Harry for hours to master the Summoning Charm, and it was paying off. Now all Harry had to do was out-fly a dragon.

Harry soared out of the dragon's reach, circling as she watched, her head following his every move. Just as she opened her mouth to shoot another burst of flame, Harry dived again, speeding into a near free-fall towards the golden egg.

Suddenly her tail thrashed out, and Harry felt a spike rip through his robes and skin, into the flesh of his shoulder. He grimaced in pain, but it wasn't bad enough to make him let go of his broom. He pulled back before she could do any real damage to him.

He paused in the air, thinking. He couldn't get close to the eggs if the Horntail was sitting on top of them the whole time. It was too dangerous. He had to lure the dragon off the ground, away from her eggs…

It was a slow process, and his arm was throbbing irritably. He felt blood wetting his robes.

He flew slowly, just out of the Horntails reach. He rose by degrees until finally, the dragon reared, unfurling her wings, and soared up after him.

Then, he dived for the golden egg, a wild plummet towards the ground as his arm began to go numb…

He seized the egg in his hands and the crowd erupted into wild applause.

Harry landed safely, just as the dragon was being recaptured. He was swarmed by Professors Snape, McGonagall and Moody before he was even adjusted to solid ground.

"That was excellent Potter!" McGonagall cried.

Snape didn't praise him, not that Harry had really expected it. "You need to have that looked at," he said instead, pointing to Harry's injured shoulder.

"Right, to the tent Potter," McGonagall agreed. "Madame Pomfrey just finished mopping up Diggory."

"Cedric?" Harry blurted.

"Yes, he's sustained some rather nasty burns," McGonagall said. "Go on Potter. You can get your score after Pomfrey has cleaned you up."

Harry entered the medical tent, and Madame Pomfrey swooped down on him and ushered him immediately to a bed.

"Is Cedric alright?" Harry asked dumbly as Pomfrey sat him down, peeling his robes off so she could get at the wound underneath.

"Mr. Diggory will be fine, I'm sure," Pomfrey said impatiently. "Worry about yourself for now."

"What's wrong with me?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Nothing that I can't have fixed in a moment," Pomfrey replied. "You're very lucky, Potter. It could have been much worse."

After she had cleaned and healed his shoulder, she gave him his blood-soaked robes to put back on which he didn't appreciate in the slightest. She had gone to the other side of the screen that divided the tent in two. Harry heard her asking, "How does it feel now, Diggory?"

Harry couldn't hear Cedric's reply, as Hermione had just barged into the tent, followed by a meek-looking Ron.

"You were brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed in supersonic decibels. "You were amazing, you really were!"

Ron was paler than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry," he said very seriously, "whoever put your name into that goblet—I—I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Finally caught on have you?" Harry asked coldly. "Took you long enough."

"I…" Ron stuttered. "Well, I…"

"Forget about it," Harry said immediately. "It doesn't matter." He grinned at Ron and all was forgiven.

"Isn't this touching?"

At first, Harry could've sworn the voice was Draco's, and his heart soared. After all, regaining two friends in one day was more than he could ask for. But it was Blaise who entered, glancing once at Ron and Hermione before going to Harry's side.

"Well done, Harry," Blaise congratulated him. "That was bloody amazing."

Harry watched the tent flap hopefully, half-expecting Draco to follow after Blaise, but no one came.

Harry forced himself to smile. "Thanks, mate. So he's still mad at me?"

Blaise smirked. "No. He worked himself into a fit from worrying so much. I got annoyed and sent him to the room for a lie-down."

Ron snorted. "Princess," he muttered. Harry elbowed him.

"Let's go see about your scores," Blaise suggested. "Then we can get to the party."

The scores were better than Harry had really expected, and he'd tied Krum for first place. Before he could head back to the castle and see Draco, though, Bagman dragged him back into the champion's tent.

Harry immediately noticed that Cedric looked the worst-off, out of all of them. He had orange goo caked on his face to mend a burn. He caught Harry looking and grinned.

"It's okay," he said. "Orange is my color."

Harry snorted despite himself. He spotted Cedric's tiny figurine of the Swedish Short-Snout that reminded him so much of Draco. On impulse, he took out his model of the Horntail and held it out to Cedric. "Hey, would you mind trading?" he said.

Cedric looked down at the figurine as if he'd forgotten that he was holding it. "Take it," Cedric said, giving it to Harry. "Keep them both. I don't need any reminders of today."

"Thanks," Harry said, looking at the tiny blue-gray dragon he now held in his hand.

"Good job with the dragon," Cedric said. "It was some brilliant flying."

Somehow, that praise seemed like the best he'd received.

* * *

"He's in the dormitory," Blaise muttered to Harry as they fought their way through a crowd of excited Slytherins. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to get to the other side of the common room. When the attention shifted off Harry, he set down the golden egg (his clue to the next task) on an end table, and made a break for the dormitory.

He closed the door gratefully behind him. When he turned around, Draco was there, just as Blaise had promised. Harry was relieved just to be seeing him—it was like a weight had lifted off his heart. But at the same time, he felt strangely nervous to be alone in the same room as him. Harry didn't really know what to expect from Draco.

"Are you still mad at me?" Harry asked childishly.

Draco stood up from his bed, moving slowly as if he were being held down by something. "I'm always mad at you, Harry," Draco said, smirking half-heartedly.

Harry looked down, pulling the dragon figurines from his pocket. "I'd noticed," he said. "Why is that?" he asked, looking up at Draco with a wry smile.

Draco just stared at him.

Harry looked away again. "Er…I brought you this," he said, offering the Swedish Short-Snout. Draco accepted it silently.

"You know, because you really like dragons, and this one kind of reminds me of you…" Harry trailed off. He realized suddenly how stupid that sounded. "I mean, it matches your eyes, and I thought you'd like it."

Draco nodded and stared at the small dragon as it unfurled its tiny wings with a small roar. He handed it back to Harry, and Harry's heart sunk, figuring he was being rejected.

Draco pointed to the model of the Horntail. "I want that one," he said.

"Oh!" Harry said. "Okay." He handed it over. "I mean, that one's cool too. Even though the real thing almost killed me and—"

"You're insane," Draco said suddenly.

Harry stopped in his rant. "What?"

"You're completely mad, you know that?" Draco repeated. "I mean, out-flying a dragon? It's completely daft."

"I…uh…" Harry stammered.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, pointing at Harry's bloody robes. He moved forward and pulled them aside to look at the already-fading scar.

Harry knew that Draco was strangely gifted with healing spells, and had a very good pain-reducing spell that he'd used on Ron last year when Sirius had broken Ron's leg. But Madame Pomfrey had fixed him up as well as any professional healer could, and was about to tell Draco that his concern was unnecessary when he caught the look in Draco's eyes. It wasn't anger, though it held the same passion that anger did. It was far more frightening, a fierce kind of watchfulness that was aimed at Harry, making Harry feel light-headed and lost.

"I'm fine," he said, though it was hard for him to hear himself over the frantic pounding of his heart.

Draco looked unconvinced, his brow furrowed in that worried way it had. Harry fought the urge to put his hand up and smooth it. "Dray—"

Draco grabbed him roughly and Harry made a noise of surprise that was immediately silenced by Draco's mouth on his. He brought his hands up and put them on Draco's shoulders, about to push away, but Draco hugged him tighter, locking his arms snugly behind Harry's back.

Draco had no idea what he was doing, Harry could tell. But then, neither did Harry, so he didn't really care. He couldn't tell if this was the proper way of kissing at all. He hadn't expected it to be so wet or clumsy. He certainly hadn't expected it to be so hard to get his tongue into Draco's mouth, and so he gave up on that endeavor. It was an addictive feeling, being kissed. It brought him some sort of triumphant feeling of being wanted that he didn't want to let go. Draco's hand suddenly grabbed his, twining their fingers together softly. Harry squeezed the hand that held his, not entirely sure that it was real.

A long, wailing moan scared them away from each other. They stared at each other blankly for a moment before running out into the common room to see what had caused the commotion. It seemed that one of the younger students had opened Harry's egg.

Harry didn't look at Draco again, marching over to the egg and closing it, putting an end to the shrill sounds that came from it. He swept past the whole of Slytherin house, past a very confused looking Blaise, and left the common room without a word.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter Seven

**Slytherin**

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_**Warnings: Slash, Language, Spoilers**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter_

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**An Unexpected Task**

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**It didn't mean anything, Harry told himself as he paced the corridors of Hogwarts in the faint torchlight. Just because Draco had kissed him and Harry had kissed back—it didn't mean that anything had to change. Still, it left Harry's mind reeling with unanswerable questions. Had he responded to the kiss because it was Draco kissing him, or was it just because it had been his first kiss? He hadn't done anything to stop Draco from kissing him, but this could have been because of the addictive feeling that kissing in general gave him, not because of any attraction to Draco on his part. Though how could he know that for sure? He'd never kissed anyone other than Draco before. He hadn't even kissed a girl yet. He wondered if kissing a girl felt as good as kissing Draco. Hell, he wondered if kissing _anyone _else was as good as kissing Draco.

_It doesn't mean anything,_ Harry told himself firmly. Draco had been worried about Harry—clearly not in control of his emotions. And Harry had just been glad that Draco wasn't mad anymore. He would have done anything to keep it that way. Even, apparently, snogging him as if the world depended on it.

Harry was still jittery. His blood was still rushing, though it had been nearly half an hour since the kiss. Harry hated to admit it, but he wanted to do it again. Maybe not with Draco, but he wanted to kiss someone again. He didn't want to let go of the powerful feeling of being wanted that kissing had given him.

"Harry?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by Cedric, who had just turned into the corridor that Harry was currently pacing. "Cedric? What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"I have Prefect duties," Cedric replied. "It's after curfew, you know."

Harry saw that Cedric was no longer covered in the orange goo that Madame Pomfrey had smeared on him earlier that evening. There was no visible trace of a burn anywhere on his face. Where the orange goo had been, there were only slightly shiny patches of new skin.

"Sorry," Harry muttered darkly. "I'll head back in a minute." He couldn't go back yet. He had to make sure that Draco would be in bed when he returned, because he couldn't face Draco yet. Not tonight. He didn't know what he was feeling yet.

"Harry?" Cedric said worriedly. "Are you alright?" He reached out and gently turned Harry around, forcing him to look at him. Harry traced the edges of the new skin on Cedric's face with his eyes.

"Harry," Cedric said again, more firmly.

Harry needed to know. He needed to know _now._

"Harry?"

Harry grasped the lapels of Cedric's robe and pulled him closer before he could comprehend what was going on. Harry rocked forward onto his toes so he could reach Cedric's mouth and kissed him roughly before Cedric had a chance to protest. For the most part, Harry missed, and he only really managed to get his mouth on Cedric's bottom lip and a good portion of his chin. Still, the contact sent a spark of pleasure through Harry's chest and he let his mouth linger for a moment before lowering his heels back to the ground.

Cedric gaped at Harry, his chest heaving with surprise.

"Sorry," Harry gasped, blushing thoroughly as the impact of what he'd done sunk in. He looked away, unable to bear looking Cedric in the eyes.

"Don't be," Cedric said breathlessly, sounding much younger than he really was.

Harry's eyes jerked back to Cedric's face. "What?" he asked incredulously.

Cedric faltered. "Just…" he began, unable to find the rest of his sentence. "I, uh….Oh, what the hell."

He pulled Harry closer and leaned down to kiss him properly.

Harry could feel Cedric's kiss right alongside his memory of Draco's, as if they were happening at the same time. Cedric was gentler than Draco, much less hurried. It was still rather wet, but the sensation seemed to be growing on Harry. Harry groaned as Cedric deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue firmly into Harry's. It felt as if a knot in Harry's stomach had unraveled.

Cedric pulled away, smiling slightly to himself. "I certainly wasn't expecting that," Cedric said in amusement. "I didn't know you swung that way, Harry."

Harry let Cedric pull him into his embrace, feeling strangely numb yet pleased. "Me neither," Harry said into Cedric's shoulder.

Cedric looked down at Harry in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Harry struggled to explain, not only to Cedric but to himself. He obviously liked boys. He didn't know about girls yet. And he couldn't deny that he'd felt something when Draco had kissed him. But Cedric definitely made him feel something too.

"I'm confused," Harry finally replied. It was as close to the truth as Harry could get. Harry was sure he could probably figure out the whole ordeal if he tried, but he really didn't want to.

"That's a pretty common feeling," Cedric assured him. "You'll figure it out though."

Harry pulled away from Cedric. "Thank you," he said, avoiding Cedric's eyes determinedly. He took a few steps back. He needed to get away so that he could think. "I'll…I'll get back to my dorm now."

"Harry," Cedric said, and he sounded uncharacteristically unsure of himself. Had Harry done that to him?

Harry turned to look at him.

Cedric fidgeted with his hands nervously. "I don't regret this, you know. And...Well, if you want this—_us_—then so do I."

Harry stuttered. "Cedric…I…"

"You don't have to decide now," Cedric said, sounding more and more confident as he went on. "Just don't keep me waiting for too long either."

"Goodnight Cedric," Harry said.

Cedric smiled tentatively. "Goodnight Harry."

Harry descended into the dungeons trying not to think about anything that had happened between him and Draco or Cedric. He'd just defeated a dragon. He wasn't dead. That would have to be good enough for now.

* * *

"How's the egg coming along?" Hermione asked in a smug way that said she knew that Harry hadn't gotten anywhere with it at all. They sat at Gryffindor table and as usual Harry stuck out in his green robes compared to the sea of red.

Harry grimaced but covered it up by taking a large drink of orange juice. "I'll figure it out," he said with feigned nonchalance.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, it's been nearly a month!"

Ron spoke up from Hermione's other side. "Yeah, but the second task isn't until after the holidays. He has loads of time for that. What we should really be worrying about is the ball. At this rate we'll be the only ones without dates."

Hermione rolled her eyes but was surprisingly quiet. It was quite out of character and Harry immediately wondered why she'd given up so quickly.

"Who do you reckon you'll take Harry?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Harry said, and his eyes went to the Hufflepuff table. Cedric sat amongst his friends, laughing. How was Harry supposed to tell Ron that he'd been seeing Cedric Diggory for these past few weeks and that what he really wanted was to be able to go with Cedric to the ball without being ridiculed for it? He wasn't, that's how. So he kept his mouth shut.

"Well you'd better hurry and pick someone mate," Ron said. "Especially if you're going to be dancing in front of all the schools. Can't dance with yourself, can you?"

"No Ron, I probably can't," Harry said dryly. "But if all else fails, I'll just have to take you."

Ron turned seven shades of red in less than a second. "You shouldn't say stuff like that Harry," he muttered. "I'll start to worry that Malfoy's rubbing off on you."

Hermione hit him half-heartedly. "Homosexuality isn't contagious, Ron. Stop being so insensitive."

Harry looked back at the Hufflepuff table and found Cedric already looking at him. The older boy smiled, and looked at the doors to the Entrance Hall pointedly. Harry gave a slight nod.

Cedric stood, making excuses to his friends as he left. He walked out of the Great Hall and turned towards the stairs to the dungeons. Harry forced himself to wait a few minutes, so he didn't draw attention to himself by following Cedric right away. He swept his gaze back to the Slytherin table where Blaise and Draco sat, conversing as if they'd forgotten that Harry used to be a part of their trio.

Blaise looked up at Harry as if he'd felt Harry's eyes on him. For a moment they just stared at each other expressionlessly. Blaise didn't draw Draco's attention to Harry either, just gave Harry a vaguely disappointed look before turning away.

Harry fought back a small bit of self-loathing and looked down at his plate. At this point he figured he deserved whatever nastiness from Draco and Blaise that he sure was coming his way. It had been over three long weeks since he'd last spoken to either of them, and he doubted that either of them really knew why. He hadn't even properly rejected Draco, or told him that he was with Cedric.

He made an excuse to Ron and Hermione and left the Great Hall, turning outside of the doors towards the dungeons. They always met in the dungeons, though they made a point of not using the same spot twice in a row. It was the easiest place for both of them to meet, since both of their common rooms were in that area.

Harry paused in the corridors, trying to remember where Cedric had wanted to meet today. They'd met closer to the Hufflepuff common room last time, so they'd probably meet near Slytherin this time. Before he could decide, though, he was grabbed from behind. A hand covered his mouth before he could say anything. He panicked, up until someone bit his earlobe gently. It was Cedric.

Harry relaxed and Cedric uncovered his mouth, but kept hold of Harry's waist. "I've found a hidden classroom," he said with barely contained glee.

Cedric's good cheer was infectious and Harry grinned. "The one down the corridor from that painting of the charging elephant?"

Harry could sense Cedric's confusion. "How do you know all these things?" Cedric asked.

Harry thought fleetingly of the Marauder's Map, sitting in his trunk. "Maybe I'll show you someday," he said casually.

Cedric laughed and pulled him down the corridor, refusing to relinquish his grip on Harry. "The mysterious Mr. Potter," Cedric said. "I'm intrigued."

Cedric stopped and pushed Harry gently into the classroom he'd mentioned and shut the door behind him, locking it with the flick of his wand.

Without further pleasantries, Cedric kissed him, pushing Harry up against a desk. Harry kicked at a chair that stood behind him until it was out of the way. The desk pressed uncomfortably into the back of Harry's thighs.

"I missed you," Cedric said quietly, and turned his attention away from Harry's mouth and onto his body. He pressed kisses into Harry's throat, sending white-hot shivers through Harry's body. Cedric's hands held Harry's hips firmly to keep him from squirming.

Harry grasped at the back of Cedric's robes but didn't return any of his more intimate touches. In truth, these encounters always left Harry feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Sometimes Cedric's displays of affection made Harry nervous, but Harry liked them far too much to put a stop to them.

Cedric suddenly went rigid against him and his mouth pulled away. "Harry, there's a bug in your hair," he said in a tight voice. He pulled away quickly and Harry felt his absence like a splash of cold water.

Harry batted at his head with his hand until he felt it, and he brushed it to the ground. Cedric took another leap backwards as the beetle hit the floor and scuttled away, seeking refuge under a nearby desk.

Harry looked up at Cedric, who still stood away from Harry as if he were a leper. Harry stared at him in confusion.

Cedric sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "I don't like bugs, okay?" he said defensively. "They creep me out."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Bugs, huh?"

"It's not funny," Cedric muttered, and Harry thought that maybe he was blushing.

"It's a little funny," Harry said. "Are you alright? You look pale." Despite his concern, he was still grinning like a fool.

Cedric shot him a dirty look, but smiled back. He moved back towards Harry, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the front of the classroom. They both sat at the edge of the teacher's desk, which was wide enough to fit them both side by side. Cedric lay back on the hard wood, his legs dangling awkwardly off the end. Harry looked at him over his shoulder as the other boy ran a hand through his hair.

"I asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball," Cedric said with a sigh.

There it was again. The feeling of being dunked into ice water. "Oh," Harry said. He stared fixedly at the opposite wall.

Cedric tugged gently on Harry's sleeve. "Come on, Harry," Cedric said pleadingly. "You know that we both have to have dates. Unfortunately those dates can't be other boys."

"I know," Harry said quickly. He worked up the nerve to look back down at Cedric, who was watching him intently with somber eyes. "Just…why Cho?" he asked. "Cho's pretty."

"And I'm gay," Cedric reminded him, sounding amused. "Harry, I don't want Cho. But she is a nice girl _and_ she's a little on the prudish side. She won't be too suspicious when I don't try to kiss her at the end of the night."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly.

"And who are you taking?" Cedric questioned, linking his fingers with Harry's. "You're running out of girls to ask. Soon there'll be no one left."

Harry turned away again, this time to think. "I don't know. I suppose I could ask Hermione. It'd be nice to go with a friend."

"I like Hermione," Cedric said. "She seems like a very sensible girl."

"Bloody brilliant is more like it," Harry said. "I've never met anyone smarter. Except maybe Draco…" He paused when he mentioned the blonde-haired git that he missed so much and Cedric seemed to notice.

"Right, Malfoy. He's in the same boat isn't he? Who'll he take I wonder?"

Harry didn't like the direction that their conversation was taking. A strange sensation had taken residence in his chest that he was pretty sure felt a lot like heartburn.

"I dunno," Harry said shortly. "I know that Pansy Parkinson really has it for him. He'll probably get wrangled into going with her."

Cedric pulled Harry down to lay beside him. "Well whoever you decide to ask, you'd better do it quick," Cedric said. "Soon they'll all be taken."

* * *

"Hey, Hermione?"

Hermione sighed and looked up from her Transfiguration book. "Yes Harry?"

Harry stared very pointedly at his own intertwined fingers. He didn't realize asking a girl out would be so difficult, considering he wasn't even interested in any of them. Perhaps it was because this was Hermione—his best friend. He really didn't want her to get the wrong impression from his asking.

"Well, it's just…I'm still looking for a date to the ball, and since we're friends….Well, I thought maybe we could just go together." He put a lot of emphasis on the word _friends,_ hoping that he'd made his point clear.

Hermione closed her book very deliberately, and Harry knew from her precise way of moving that he'd somehow offended her.

"I see," she said. "I suppose it didn't occur to you that I might already have a date? Or is that so hard to believe?"

Harry stammered, searching desperately for the right thing to say. "I…just….No, it's not that hard to believe," he retorted defensively. "I just hadn't realized that you had your eye on someone. Unless you're going with Ron…"

Hermione blushed. "No, I most certainly am _not _going with Ron."

"Then who?" Harry asked. He really couldn't think of anyone who Hermione would agree to go to the ball with.

"It's a surprise," Hermione snapped, her blush deepening. Harry couldn't see who it was that would embarrass her so much. Unless…

"You're not going with Neville are you?"

Hermione glared before standing and leaving the library in a huff.

* * *

Harry walked absently towards the Slytherin common room, something akin to despair taking hold of him. At the rate he was going, he'd be forced to take Mrs. Norris to the ball.

He heard footsteps down the corridor, and then hushed voices.

"We really must stop meeting like this," Draco's voice drawled.

Harry froze where he was, listening.

"You should stop making zis difficult," said the unmistakable voice of Fleur Delacour. What was she doing with Draco again?

"I assure you, _mademoiselle_, that is not my intention," Draco replied smoothly.

"Then you admit zat we have zings to we need to talk about," Fleur said.

"I suppose we do," Draco replied. "Though I think you'll be disappointed when I finally convince you of the truth."

"Ze ball," Fleur said. "You will accompany me as my date. Zat will give us ze time we need to talk."

"Very well," Draco agreed. "We'll discuss this further at the ball."

Harry felt very suddenly as if a fire-breathing dragon had taken up residence where his heart was meant to be. And it seemed to be _roaring_ in anger. Harry was almost positive that he would be killing Fleur in the next few seconds.

The two blondes emerged from one of the many nooks in the dungeons and saw Harry where he stood. Fleur sniffed haughtily, turning gracefully and walking away. Draco sneered. "Problem Potter?" he demanded before striding past Harry into the common room.

* * *

**Yeah, Harry went there. Cedric Diggory. Try not to hate me.**


End file.
